


Tell Me Why

by NoelleLilacNotte



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Drunken rage, M/M, Sadness, Songfic, alchohol, drunken sadnesss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleLilacNotte/pseuds/NoelleLilacNotte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tell Me Why (Three Days Grace) songfic told from the perspective of Sebastian Moran after Jim's disappearance in The Reichanbach Fall</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Why

*How’d I end up here again? Its like i'm always getting blood on my hands.*

 

I stared into the luminescent screen of his televison. The words whispering from the speakers chilled my to the bone.

“Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes found dead in Reichenbach. The notorious “consulting criminal’ apparently shot himself in an evidently successful attempt to convince the famed detective to throw himself off the roof of the building they were found on. Building owners unavailable for comment.”

I threw an empty beer can at the screen, hitting the OFF button and inadvertantly knocking over the antennae. I’d told the boss we needed a new telly. Guess I can buy it now. Funny. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*All it takes is one and I’m done and a thousand ‘til the end. How’d I wind up here again?*

 

I took another drink from the bottle of whiskey in my hand. I’d raided Jim’s so-called secret stash. He’d never let me touch the stuff if he was still alive. I don’t care. I’ll drink away as many days as I want. He can’t stop me anymore. Maybe I needed him to stop me. Maybe I needed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*You take me to the edge, you push me too far, you watch me slip away, I’m holding on too far*

 

I wonder if he’s a ghost now. Maybe he’s watching me. I flipped off his old chair. If he’s here that’s where he’d be sitting. I tossed his now empty whiskey bottle at it for good measure. It shattered on impact. Figures. 

The glitchy old telly snapped back to life again, and the sceen played the blurry clip of my best friend and favorite target’s mutal death. I could feel the ancient liquor seeping into my veins. Heh. Three whole bottles, I guess that’s my limit. I drifted into a restless sleep, wondering if maybe, just maybe, I could at least dream of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Tell me why! Why does everything that I love get taken away from me?!*

The metallic ringing of the Boss’s alarm clock woke me up in a jolt. I almost yelled for him to shut the damn thing off. Slumping my posture, I trudged into his room and hit the clock, breaking it. Cogs and springs everywhere. He always did love his old fairy tales. I could almost hear his voice. “Seb!” he’d say. “Sebby, you know how much I loved that clock! We stole it from that prissy metal shop, remember?” I almost missed that sniviling, conniving, sweet, delicious, murderous voice. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*How come nothing ever lasts? It goes from good, to bad, to worse, so fast...*

 

I tossed the other two empty bottles from the night before at his chair. Again, they shattered. Typical. Even in death he taunts me, teasing me with old promises and doubts. I stopped being able to tell time about then. It could have been days, weeks, months of me sitting in that chair, slugging back HIS whiskey, living in HIS house, surrounded by HIS food and HIS stuff and even HIS smell. Dammit Jim. I almost hope you really did die.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Tell me why! Why does everything that I love get taken away from em?!*

My phone chimed from its plugged in position on the table besides me. I angrily grabbed at it, and my eyes widened as I read the four words on the screen. Four words to give me hope. Four words to kill me. Four words that made me happier and angrier than I’d been in, apparently, years.

Did you miss me? -JM


End file.
